Edmond O’Reilly Hyland had been quiet for some while, but now chipped in. ‘As well as this, we need to remember the evidence found at Gready’s house and in the deposit box. In my opinion it’s inconceivable that Gready would have told anyone else about the hollowed-out bedpost. To me, his suggesting that Starr was behind this is total nonsense.’

Meg looked bleakly around the solemn faces and felt tears welling, but needed to be strong and not let it show. Only Hugo Pink met her eye, and he gave her a reluctant chin up grimace.

The jury continued with their deliberations until lunchtime, when it became apparent they would not be able to reach agreement. Meg turned to the jury bailiff. ‘Can we return to the court to let the judge know we are not close, or likely to be unanimous?’

A short time later, with all parties back in court, the judge turned to the jury. ‘I understand that you are unable to reach a unanimous verdict on the counts and that there is no likelihood of you doing so. As we are reduced to eleven members, I am able to accept a majority verdict of 10–1 or 9–2 from you. This is in accordance with section 17 (1) b Juries Act 1974.’

He then asked the jury bailiff, Jacobi Whyte, to take the jury back to their room to continue their discussions.

103

Thursday 30 May

Forty-five minutes later the jury followed their bailiff back into court and took their places in the box. Meg was shaking, her brain almost frozen by despair and terror. She could scarcely believe the events of the morning, just how quickly the panel had turned.

She looked around the court. There was utter silence. No one was moving. It was as if she had entered a tableau at Madame Tussauds. Terence Gready was seated, neatly dressed, staring dead ahead, as motionless as a statue. All the legal counsel in their grey wigs and dark garb were static, the public gallery filled with people as motionless as cardboard cut-outs and the full press gallery equally frozen.

Time had stopped.

She felt as if she might faint.

The imposing figure of Judge Richard Jupp dominated the courtroom. The clerk of court, Maureen Sapsed, stood and faced the jury. Looking directly at Meg, her tone friendly, but stiffer and more formal than previously, she said, ‘Will the foreperson please stand.’

Meg rose, trembling even more, gripping a sheet of paper. She was terrified she would throw up at any moment.

‘I understand you have reached your verdict.’

‘Yes.’ She stared, fearfully, back at the judge. Her voice was trapped inside her throat. She was conscious that every single pair of eyes in the court was focused on her. Utter silence. A drop of perspiration trickled down the back of her neck. She began to hear a drumming in her ears. The pounding of her heart.